


Once Upon a Time, Things were Better

by ambivertedintrovert



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, they need to sort things out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24790612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivertedintrovert/pseuds/ambivertedintrovert
Summary: Della finds out a secret Donald and Scrooge have been hiding- the drift in their family for a decade. She decides to ask Donald.Things don't go that well.
Relationships: Daisy Duck & Donald Duck, Della Duck & Donald Duck, Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck
Comments: 42
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

_"Wait, there was a whirlpool in Uncle Scrooge’s backyard? That’s amazing!"_

_"Actually, Mom, we lived at the marina at that time. We were only 9."_

_"What happened to the mansion?"_

_"Umm... Mom, we didn't know Uncle Scrooge was our uncle until a little more than a year ago. We lived with Uncle Donald on his houseboat. They weren't talking to each other because of - of –"_

_"- the Spear of Selene. Save it, Hubert.”_

_*_

_"But- But why didn't anyone tell me?"_

* * *

It was now close to midnight. Della strolled through the long corridors of McDuck Manor.

She hadn't meant to be awake so late, but she couldn’t sleep. The nightmares about her time on the moon didn’t help. (But she was Della Duck; she didn’t need therapy, even if Donald and Scrooge had advised her to go for it.)

First the transmissions, then this? What else had gone wrong? 

She looked out of the window, watching the houseboat gently rocking because of the wind. Della couldn't help but smile at the shadow of her brother idly sipping a cup of tea.

Even then, that didn’t explain living on such a vulnerable boat for ten whole years.

Casually walking up to the door and knocking on it, she winced on hearing the cup fall onto the ground. Donald opened the door with a sheepish smile, allowing his sister to enter his tidy little houseboat. He said he’d take a minute to clean up.

She hated the fact that she couldn’t understand the second part of the sentence. Ten years had worsened Donald’s voice ~~or she had lost her ability to understand him~~.

She glanced at the innumerable photos up on the walls, smiling at the recent ‘family photo’. It had taken quite a while after the invasion, but Donald was finally comfortable around her. She would see an occasional unreadable expression, and they would fight at times, but it wasn't worrying. Maybe everything could _almost_ go back to normal, if not completely. 

Della waited for Donald to settle, laughing as he managed to trip over the mop at least 4 times. She missed this. 

_Now all I have to do is start this conversation,_ she mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” was the immediate scratchy response of her brother. 

“I said, ‘you raised them really well’, Donnie,” she bluffed, hoping her brother had forgotten how to read through her expression. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding when he laughed in return.  
.  
“That I did,” he beamed. His eyes shone with the same pride she had seen him with as a 20 year old who had got his first job. (“Your uncle is the smug one between us,” Della would tell Dewey later, “he’ll rub his achievements and pride in everyone’s faces. He’s been the same since before I could use a rattle.”)  
She was interrupted in the middle of her thought process. “But what are you really here for?”

_Aw shucks, he didn’t buy it._

“Can’t a person meet her twin now and again?”

“It could’ve waited till breakfast. Now, what is it?” he asked with the Dad-tone he used for the kids.

It worked.

“Right.” She took a deep breath. “Huey told me something, can I ask you about it?” 

“You’d ask even if I said no, if you really wanted to.”

“That I would,” she responded with a chuckle. She tried to find the right words. “Why didn’t you or Scrooge tell me about your fight?”

“Which one?” _Well, that was concerning._

“The one after I- I- you know-” Donald put a hand up to stop her from saying anything.

“I should call Uncle Scrooge. He’d want to be here.”

As Donald stood up, Della pulled him back onto his seat. “Wait, I want to hear your version first.”

“Della, n-“

“ _Please_?” 

Donald looked away. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

“You stepped onto the damned spaceship. Scrooge knew. I didn’t. I got angry. I left with the boys. End of story.”

“We both know there’s more to that.”

In all the months after the twins reunited, the sailor had suppressed any negative feelings. He was stupid to think that he could forget the betrayal and mistrust he felt a decade before. 

_“Della’s always been your favourite, Scrooge.”_

_“Lad, you know that isn’t true! The rocket was for after the boys hatched!”_

_“Forget it, you stingy old geezer. Mom was right about you.”_

_“Donal-“_

_“The boys are the only family I have.”_

Donald didn’t like the fact he was beginning to see a bright shade of red. He looked towards the window, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, come on! You’re doing that thing when you stare into the distance and pretend you’re thinking. You used to do that when we were fifteen!” grumbled Della

“…”

“Ugh, stop blocking yourself out. The boys didn’t know _me_. The boys didn’t know they were related to the _Richest Duck in the World_!”

Donald clenched his fists. Why was he angry? The topic would have been discussed sooner or later.

“And the boys told me the four of you lived here,” she continued, putting a special emphasis on the world ‘here’. “How were they comfortable in such a small boat? Like, it’s neat and all, but it can break any moment!”

_The houseboat is my pride. My home. And **she** insults it?_

“It was a lot larger. It’s survived the worst,” Donald managed to say. He must’ve sounded pathetic.

“Donnie, they’re triplets! How could you handle all three of them as a single parent with your pay? You should’ve at least asked for financial assistance.”

“Well, Della, it was fine. I didn’t need help.”

“It’s just that I never thought the temperamental, stubborn, wildly unstable brother I left behind would be able to raise-”

“Wildly unstable? _Wildly unstable?_ I wasn’t the one who got onto a rocket and dived headfirst into a cosmic storm!”

“And I regret it!”

“ _Of course_ you do.” There was a sudden, pained silence.

“Why can’t you forgive me? I get it, it’s my fault. Blame me all you want. But why Uncle Scrooge?” Della finally asked, pain evident in her voice. Maybe they _should_ have called Scrooge. 

“Of course you’d take Scrooge’s side. Classic Dumbella,” was Donald’s unexpected response. Della flinched at his harsh tone. This called for extreme measures.

She tried to put on the puppy face she had once been a master of. “I’m not! But deep down you know you not leaving would have been better for everyone. Where’s the good ol’ thoughtful Donal’?” 

“He’s gone, Della. He got onto the Spear with you and never returned.”

“Well, he came back with me. Say hi to him, he’s right inside you.”

“And how do you know that you’re back? You clearly left your leg behind.”

Della let out a sigh. She didn’t need to remember the incident again. Grabbing her brother by the shoulder, she forced him to look at her. “Now, tell me Donald. Why is Scrooge in this mess?”

Donald roughly shoved her arm away. “He was your partner in crime.”

“But even then-”

“You know something, _Della Duck_? Things were better with you in space,” he retorted, cold and indifferent as he stood up and faced her. 

Usually, Della would see fire in his eyes. This time, it was ice. And that hurt more.

_“You took off in that contraption without thinking about the consequences, or the people you would hurt!”_

_“I wonder who I got that from.”_

Della rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. _Who am I kidding? It’s still Donald Fauntleroy Duck._

“Pfft, look who’s crying,” taunted Donald sarcastically.

Della could feel the rage building up. If he wanted a fight, he’d get one. “Aw, Don-don, I think you’re forgetting that they’re _my_ kids.”

“Aw, Dell-bell, you’re _definitely_ forgetting I raised them better than you ever could.”

“Oh shut up. Just ‘cause you’re a better parental figure now doesn’t mean you’ll always be one.”

“Jealous much?”

“Ugh, Scrooge would’ve raised them better!” The pilot didn’t notice Donald’s face momentarily fall. “And they call me the dramatic twin. That explains where Dewey’s obsession comes from.”

“Don’t bring the kids into this.”

“So they’re your weakness? I thought it was your horribly unintelligible voice. Well, sorry to say, the boys _didn’t even know their background._ ”

“ _They didn’t have to._

“Huey thinks you’re too overprotective. Dewey says you’re a spoilsport. We don’t talk about Louie. They don’t care. Face it, Fauntleroy; you haven’t changed since you were five. No one needs you. Not even the boys. WE HATE YOU.”

Della smirked as she saw Donald falter. “Well, I guess I’ll leave now.”

“Yeah, and abandon us for another decade.” He knew what she said wasn’t true. His twin often would cook up lies in anger to hurt the other person. It apparently ‘saved manpower’.

Della’s haughtily exiting the room. She hadn’t meant to knock over a painting in the process, breaking it into pieces. Realization suddenly hit her, and she immediately began apologizing.

But Donald wasn’t listening. He felt a part of him shatter along with the painting. 

“That’s enough, Della. Out.” His tone reminded her of the lull before a storm.

“Wait Don-”

“I said OUT!” 

Della scurried out of the houseboat, dodging everything thrown at her, leaving Donald agitated and alone. Anger turned to despair. He began assembling the pieces of the painting together. 

The same painting the boys had made for father’s day when they were in school.  
.

He threw a tantrum when a few pieces were missing.

* * *

_What if the boys actually don’t care?_

That would explain why they hadn’t been near him since three days. They were probably with Della. After all, he was just there.

_Aw, Donnie. You realized early._

Della was just angry. His mind was tricking him… or maybe showing the reality he had been dodging.

_**Don, you know the truth. The world hates you, and the world includes your family. Besides, you’ve lived alone for years together. You can do it again.** _

.

_“You’ve cared about nothing except money and adventure. You’re right, Della wasn’t your favourite. It was stupid adventure. AND IT KILLED HER!” snarled Donald, shoving Scrooge out of the way one last time as he rushed out of the room, hiding any visible tears. He’d make them all sorry. He’d take the boys with him and never return to McDuck Manor._

_But even though his uncle lost hope on his twin after a little more than a year, he’d wait for six painful years, hoping she’d open the door and shout at him for not looking for her. Then they’d sit on the deck, watching the stars like they had done years afore._

.

Everyone was right. No one needed him. With Della back, he was the mess-up, the failure, the second twin again. Why was he even trying to fit in? What would he gain? A hug?

Besides, he received an employment offer for a better-than-usual salary a decade ago. He rejected it for the boys. He recently found out it was still open. His ‘family’ wouldn’t care anyway. If it wasn’t for the invasion he’d probably be slumming around on a deserted island, living on sand and sea water and talking to a watermelon.

He picked up his phone and sent the contact he had saved a message in affirmation. He received a call almost immediately after the message was sent. 

“You will begin work day after tomorrow. The reporting time and venue will be told to you by the boss himself in an hour.”

.

He was ready.

* * *

“And now, the big reveal after all our combined efforts, we dedicate to our dearest uncles-”

“Happy Uncles’ Day! And we get the biggest pieces of cake,” interrupted Louie, entering with Huey who brought the cake and gifts on a trolley.

“ _Louie_ , you spoilt my introduction!” grumbled Dewey. Huey rolled his eyes.

“Stop fighting you two. Anyway, Happy Uncles’ Day from al- wait, where’s Uncle Donald? Dewey, did you give Uncle Donald the invitation?”

“His houseboat was locked so I dropped it in the mailbox. He must be busy,” answered Dewey, still annoyed by the interruption of his dramatic entrance.

Louie was surprised. His uncle always left the houseboat unlocked, just in case the triplets ~~especially Louie~~ wanted any help ~~with nightmares~~.

“He’s one of the chief guests! We can’t ruin Uncles’ Day like this! I’ll go get him,” said a worried Huey, already making his way to the door.

“Relax Huey. Uncle Donald probably didn’t check the mail.”

“But he always greets us good morning! We can’t ruin this party! Mom, you’ve helped too since the past 3 days. What do you think?”

Della sighed as four expectant faces looked at her. “Huey, sweetie, it’s okay. He probably overslept. Why don’t you all stay here while I go and get my lazy brother here? I’ll be right back.”

And before anyone could object, Della was already out of the room. 

Della knocked on the door of the houseboat. After what had happened the previous night, she wanted to apologise. While she didn’t remember a lot of the argument, she did remember cooking up lies to hurt Donald. Hopefully, he hadn’t believed it. The last time they had had such a fight, she ended up disappearing in space a week later. Fortunately, that wouldn’t happen again.

After fifteen minutes of knocking on the door so hard her knuckles hurt, she noticed a paper slipped beneath the door. She picked it up casually.

“Nononono NO-“ tears filled her eyes. This wasn’t possible!

_**“Goodbye.** _

_**-D.F.D.”** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things don't go that well. Dealing with the aftermath to try and make things fine isn't always the best option.

“What do you mean he’s _gone_?” Louie’s voice echoed through the still corridors of McDuck Manor.

“B-But he’s Uncle Donald! He said he wouldn’t leave us!” Huey was panicking. Della nearly panicked herself.

This was all _her_ fault. She would have had another breakdown if Mrs. Beakley wouldn’t have intervened.

“Let your mother speak.” It was her stern yet motherly voice which gave a Della a little bit more courage.

It was then Louie noticed Della clench her fists and take a deep breath.

He suddenly realized why her actions were familiar.

When the triplets were 8, Louie had called Dewey ‘stupid, self-obsessed and ridiculous’, which hurt Dewey enough to make him run away. Uncle Donald’s expression left a lasting impact, leaving him in a similar position.

(Needless to say, Dewey had been hit by a car since he had been entirely worked up, and Louie would forever remember the day when the hospital called them up.)

But Dewey had been okay. Louie had apologized. He was given a _chance_.

Maybe his mom could be given one too. Uncle Donald was probably okay too, right? …right?

“Della, speak,” said Mrs. Beakley, interrupting his thoughts.

 _Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this Della._ “I told him we hated him.” _Wonderful opening, Dumbella,_ said the Donald in her head.

 _“Why?”_ Dewey asked, still on an edge with worry and a little anger written on his face. As much as Dewey hated to admit it, Della could see the Donald in him.

Now that she realized it, all the boys were like Donald in their own way. It hit her with guilt and pain.

… _This was probably how Donald felt for all those years._

“He said things were better off with me on the moon,” she finally managed to mumble, tears welling up. _And a lot more things too. But so did I._

_She had really messed up big time, hadn’t she?_

Scrooge’s quiet and worried voice was one she had last heard a decade before. “You didn’t really believe that, did you lass?”

She had disappointed her father-like figure. She shouldn’t even _be_ here. She should have never survived the moon. Donald was right as always. She was the screw-up, the second twin.

_Who brings an entire invasion fleet behind them? Donald would’ve seen right through Lunaris._

She didn’t miss the united gasp when she ran out of the room in tears without speaking. But that didn’t mean she’d turn back.

Because that was what defined her, of course. Even before the boys, she was a coward. What harm would it do to run away once more?

* * *

Donald made his way to the headquarters. A part of him said he needed to go back to his family, to the people he had loved his entire life.

The other part of him missed the boys, but told him it was okay. If his family could adjust to Della’s disappearance, his would be easier to adjust to. After all, they didn’t need a person who didn’t know what he was doing.

At the same time, he could be a great FOWL agent thanks to his previous training in the navy and SHUSH ~~and as the Duck Avenger~~. It wasn’t like the other jobs he usually had; boring, rooting in one spot or being at the mercy of people who knew nothing. And last time he checked, SHUSH was pretty incompetent after letting the major agents retire.

Being on the right side of the law had led him to 10 years of hopelessness and debt. This was his only chance to prove himself.

He had to be careful though. FOWL could have called him because he was Scrooge’s nephew. He hated being a pawn, and he wasn’t about to listen to people this time.

Little did he know, it was what FOWL wanted.

*

“Duck hasn’t arrived yet,” stated Bradford Buzzard, glancing at the agents in front of him as he fiddled with the Rubik’s cube.

“He’s on his way, sir.”

“Remember, he will be here only to track and find the data from SHUSH.”

“But sir, he’s McDuck’s nephew. We could use him for the main plan.”

“Steelbeak, use your head. He still cares for his ‘ _family_ ’, no matter how much he may deny it. He’ll use our plan against us if he finds out we’re going to take them down. Do not discuss the plan in front of him.”

“Then what will we use him for? His only advantage is that he can fight.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Dee. He’s the underdog. The only reason I’ve given him this offer is because of his secret identity as a SHUSH agent. Heron here has faced him.”

“He’s stealthy, striking only when needed and escaping without any trace. He was one of the few agents who managed to bring down the foundation of FOWL before it collapsed.” Heron spoke, revenge deep in her voice.

The Buzzards nodded. “Remember, he is here as an agent, and _not_ as Scrooge’s nephew. We can’t let him put two and two together. He will be extremely useful for the agency if we gain his trust. We should be happy he’s not gone back to SHUSH, _even if most of the agency is full of imbeciles at the moment_.” The last part was said in a low voice.

The other agents nodded solemnly, just before someone knocked on the door.

“Sir, Mr. Duck is here.”

* * *

_Six months._ It had been six months since Uncle Donald ran away. They would have probably lost their mom too if Louie and Dewey hadn’t talked to her.

_“Mom! It’s Louie!” Della slid down the rope attached to her window, hoping they wouldn’t catch up._

_She gave up when Dewey and Webby blocked her way, curling up into a ball in frustration._

_She heard Louie panting as he made his way towards her. Louie had clearly preferred running down the staircase over sliding 2 floors on an unstable rope._

_“Mom, listen. We’re not mad at you.” Della didn’t move._

_“I know we were pretty angry before, but we don’t know what really happened. And we don’t want to lose any of you! We don’t need this family to break up again!”_

_“It wasn’t broken until I came back, right?” Her tone was harsh, and the children flinched. Louie remembered Donald behaving like this too when they were barely five years old._

_“It was for ten years,” Louie mumbled, hating how watery his voice sounded. His mom didn’t budge, except for curling up more._

_Dewey took a deep breath. ‘ **What would Uncle Donald do?’**_

_He stepped forward, signaling Webby to do the same. “What do I do?” Webby mouthed._

_“Follow me,” he mouthed back, and Webby nodded hesitantly._

_He hadn’t expected his mom to clutch onto them when they placed their hands on her shoulders. ‘ **She’s crying’** , Dewey noticed._

_They stood there in silence, Louie joining what became a hug in between. A thousand words were left unspoken, but none of them cared._

_“I’m so sorry,” Della finally mumbled, teary-eyed and holding them close, fear of losing them too._

_“We love you too,” they had replied, barely audible yet forgiving all the same._

But none of them stopped searching. As surprising as it was for Donald to disappear without a trace, they believed they would find him. Della snuck out several times on her own to look for leads, and her sons and honorary-daughter followed her example, a point Beakley did _not_ appreciate.

Scrooge himself persuaded Gyro and Fenton to hack into several security cameras in Duckburg, but the sailor was nowhere to be found.

If only Donald hadn’t learnt stealth and disguising as well as he had, they would have at least had a clue. Scrooge almost sent a message on television for Donald, but his Board of Directors said it would bring too much attention and anyone could kidnap Donald, leading to further trouble. Scrooge bowed his head in defeat, missing the united grin of the Buzzards.

*

It was on one such day when Mrs. Beakley entered Scrooge’s office with an important message.

“There are two messages from SHUSH,” she said, placing the breakfast on the table.

“Not now, 22.” Beakley sighed. As important as Donald was, SHUSH’s message was important too.

“First of all, apparently there are more competent agents now.”

“ _How is that important?_ ” muttered Scrooge. Beakley chose to ignore his statement.

“Secondly, one of them, a new one, Agent 44, was able to uncover FOWL’s goal.”

“Those lunatics are never going to sto- Wait! Did you say 44? That was Donald’s SHUSH code!”

“It’s not Donald. I already checked. It’s a lady named Daisy.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“FOWL is after your family.”

They missed the gasp from the corridor outside.

*

Huey heard it all. He never meant to eavesdrop (that was Louie’s line of work), but he really hoped Mrs. Beakley had brought news about Donald.

Now his uncle was all alone with a criminal agency that could attack him.

The boy wasn’t usually reckless. But anxiety clouded his logic. Grabbing some money and food, he slung his ‘emergency backpack’ over his shoulder and started his search.

He asked people, and while some offered to help, they had seen his uncle too long ago to remember. He felt he was close after seeing a duck wearing a black shirt, and cried when it wasn’t Donald.

Huey was in Funzo’s when he realized he needed to go home. He didn’t want his family to think he was missing too.

He nearly screamed when the door was locked from the outside. Or at least he would’ve if he hadn’t heard footsteps and ducked into a corner.

The boy looked at them in surprise. Adults weren’t allowed in Funzo’s, especially after closing hours. And Funzo’s workers _definitely_ didn’t wear white blazers to work. Finding himself in a secure spot, he listened to their conversation.

“So, SB, the plan?”

“It’s _Steelbeak_. So, you know how Duck shouldn’t be involved with anything about his family? I was thinking we could extract data from him, without mentioning the plan. Especially about the boys, since they’re a soft spot.”

“But that would be against the High Command!”

“We’re not going to reveal this to anyone. _Besides_ , it’ll help in our mission. We’re FOWL.”

Huey couldn’t speak. _Duck? The Donald Duck? FOWL?_ It suddenly made so much sense.

“So Uncle Donald joined FOWL, which is why we knew nothing, and some of the agents are plotting to take him down. I’ve got to tell this to Uncle Scrooge!” he summarized under his breath.

“A nephew? We can’t let you run now, can we?”

_Maybe a little too loud for ‘under his breath’._

Huey had always wondered how it felt to be knocked out from the front.

* * *

Donald hadn’t laughed like this in ages. For criminals, FOWL agents were rather fun to be around.

“And guess what I said after that robbery? It’s _Steal_ beak, not _Steel_ beak; get it?”

While Donald and several other agents started laughing, the others stared at them in disbelief.

“Steelbeak, that was terrible,” laughed Gandra, wiping away a tear.

“Still made ya laugh,” and another chorus of laughter emerged.

The sailor was surprised with how many of them still had families and friends outside FOWL. Not all of them had sob stories; one agent had a niece who was about to graduate, while another had some brothers and sisters around the world but decided to try villainy anyway since they had ‘the skills’ .

But in that moment, they weren’t villains. They were good acquaintances recollecting fond memories and their loved ones. (Or at least most of them were. Steelbeak and several others had run away from abusive parents, while the rest simply said nothing.)

“What about the High Command?” Donald had suddenly asked, rolling his tongue around each word. The last thing he needed was to repeat the sentence. After all, the Buzzards had been Scrooge’s Board of directors for as long as he could remember.

He got his answer in the surprised looks of the other agents. “No-one speaks of them,” mumbled Heron. “We know they were the second-in-command before the original FOWL fell a little more than a decade ago. And that they were some of the few agents that survived SHUSH’s surprise attack.” 

She shot a glare at Donald, a subtle yet major reminder of his successful years in SHUSH.

“It was literal world larceny. You were about to render millions homeless for no reason,” Donald argued in response.

“Then why are you with us now?”

 _Yeah Donnie, why are you with them now?_ repeated a voice in his head.

He was saved from answering by an Eggman bursting into the room. “The red boy’s gone nuts!” A frantic expression was spread across her face. “I think the chocolate had drugs.”

Steelbeak inwardly groaned. Hoping Donald hadn’t picked up the clues, he sent the Eggman away immediately. They didn’t want more trouble.

He sighed in relief when Donald made no change in expression. 

But Donald was thinking elsewhere. Only one red boy he knew went ‘nuts’ after eating chocolate at 8:20 pm. 

And if Huey _was_ here, he would find him soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go! The second chapter's up :)) 
> 
> Steelbeak calling himself 'Stealbeak' was a stupid idea of mine from my tumblr XD Also giving Huey a sugar overload was not in the original plot, but I did it anyway.
> 
> Some details I have mentioned may or may not be used later. The whole story's tentatively going to be 4 chapters long.
> 
> I probably may not be able to update this soon. It may take even more than a month, but I will definitely continue it. Thank you for understanding.
> 
> If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I will answer whatever I can. Thank you for waiting and reading this! :D
> 
> Edit: I have been asked why I've chosen FOWL as Donald's new job. The link below hopefully gives my answer in case anyone wants to know.
> 
> https://your-local-semi-nerd.tumblr.com/post/624616459588468736/i-have-tons-of-questions-but-first-why-fowl


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here's the third chapter! Thank you for all the support! :))

Donald groaned. As much as he wanted to talk to Huey, he wasn’t able to get through the tight security.

He was certain that Huey was here. He had managed to enter the vents, and he had seen him. Though the boy seemed to be in perfect health, he was afraid, and Donald promised himself that he would not spare anyone who hurt even a hair on his- no, _Della’s_ \- boy’s head.

_Della_ \- he hated the way his stomach hurt when he remembered her.

He had already tried to enter Huey’s location thrice. His bad luck interfered in every way it could- once as a trip wire, the second as an alarm, and the third as a scary Eggman. His poor excuses had somehow let him survive, but he wasn’t sure how long that could last.

The Buzzards had called him for something ‘important’. He couldn’t shake the feeling they had found out about his little ‘escapades’, but he figured he was just being paranoid. Bradford Buzzard didn’t start speaking either, for he stared at his watch with a pensive look across his face.

Gandra Dee came running in 237 seconds later.

“Sorry sir. An Eggman didn’t recognise me.”

“You know I hate tardiness.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Duck, Dee, you’ll be going on your first assignment to SHUSH. We want you to collect some information regarding a rare crystal. Here are the details you need.”

A pamphlet was handed over to them, and they studied it carefully. Several instructions were written at the back and they were given agent numbers.

“Try your best. We want to see how far you two can get.”

“But sir, shouldn’t someone more... experienced do this?”

“Do as you’re told, Dee.” And so, they exited the office, clutching their pamphlets like they were their lifelines.

In a way, they were.

.

Before they knew it, they were at the SHUSH headquarters. Donald felt a chill run down his spine.

Gandra, on the other hand, was hyperventilating.

“I’m going to die. And I haven’t even fulfilled any of my dreams.”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” asked Donald, a low chuckle escaping his mouth. He remembered going through the same thing.

“Do I look like I have?”

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It isn’t _okay_ to die.”

“No- I mean, try your best.”

Gandra merely rolled her eyes. She wasn’t weak; returning empty-handed meant she failed.

“It’s not counted if you don’t get it the first few times. Just... don’t get caught,” Donald told her as if he read her thoughts. “Even if you come out of the mission alive, you’re ahead of so many who died carelessly or ran away. You’ll get used to it,” he spoke slowly, with an air of experience. Gandra almost believed him.

“You sure?”

FOWL and SHUSH agents were the same people on opposite sides. Ignoring the factor of villainy, nothing was different. Donald had worked on both sides to see this himself.

It was an unsaid fact- it didn’t matter which agency you were from, or which agency you were going to. Being caught lurking in enemy territory had consequences worse than death. The survival rate was low. No wonder everyone had the jitters the first time.

“Yes.”

“Thanks Mr. Duck.”

“You’re welcome. And Gandra? Please... stay alive, okay?”

Gandra’s expression morphed from that of confusion to a sad smile. “Aye, aye, cap’n.”

* * *

Donald sighed. He hoped Gandra was okay. She was still a kid compared to the other agents, and he couldn’t believe she was sent on this mission.

Even he felt worn-out after all after dodging so many agents, and he had prior experience. Managing to note down the information, he made his way out of SHUSH.

He cursed his clumsiness when he crashed into an agent. His hood hopefully hid his face, and he helped the other agent pick up her things.

“I’m so sorry,” the other agent began, “I wasn’t looking where I was-”

_“Daisy?”_

_“Donald?”_

It took hardly a second for Daisy to pull him into a hug. Seeing a familiar face in an unfriendly world was rare, and it was an unbelievable moment for both of them.

“I missed you so much,” mumbled Donald, finally returning the hug.

Daisy chuckled, holding him a little tighter. “Of course you did.”

And then their senses kicked in.

“When did _you_ become a SHUSH agent?”

“Forget me, where the heck were _you_? Everyone’s been so worried! After Huey went missing too, nothing’s been the same!”

The statement grabbed his attention.

“He’s in FOWL.”

“ _FOWL?_ How do you kno- oh no, no, no.” Donald took a sudden interest in the wall and realisation sunk in.

“Let me guess: you ran away to FOWL, Huey got kidnapped, and now you’re on a mission here.”

“Maybe?”

Daisy could’ve exploded, but she didn’t allow herself to. She placed a hand on her forehead instead.

“Look, I get you aren’t on the _best_ terms with your family, but working with an agency that wants to kill your family? Donald, have you gone insane?”

Donald froze. “They want to _what_?”

“ _Of course_ you didn’t get the agenda.”

He slumped against the wall, burying his head in his hands. “I’m so stupid.”

“Yeah, you are,” Daisy smirked, earning a scowl from Donald, “but you’re also smart. I mean, you raised three triplets for 10 years, and they turned out wonderful! And if you qualified for FOWL or managed to sneak into an agency single-handedly, then that’s not a joke. But working with an enemy to take down your own people? That’s definitely stupid.”

Donald just pulled his knees closer to him. The lady sighed, sitting down beside him.

“I know this is a mess, but I think I have an idea.” She didn’t wait for a response, knowing how little time they had. Donald himself admitted the plan was pretty good.

If he hurried, he could escape SHUSH with Daisy’s help. Then, he could run to McDuck Manor, explain the situation in person, and get back to FOWL as if nothing happened. Then Scrooge and SHUSH could handle the rest.

“And uh- Daisy? Could you give me the contacts from our family?” Donald asked sheepishly. He had brought a spare phone and had deleted all the contacts for ‘safety’ reasons. Daisy rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Of course. But first, give me the information you stole from SHUSH.”

“Aw phooey.”

.

But while Donald had escaped from SHUSH with most of the personal information he wanted, he hadn’t seen the pair of hands that knocked him cold. For as clever as he could be, he had forgotten the microphone dimly glowing in his pocket.

FOWL knew his plan, and no-one was safe.

* * *

“Uncle Donald?” Huey heard a distant squabble he hadn’t heard in a _very_ long time. For a moment, he felt hopeful, until his uncle started cursing the guards.

His uncle had been caught, and he was now a prisoner. The oldest triplet leaned out of his cell, watching the scene unfold, a mixed expression across his face.

He felt the tears running down his face when he and his uncle made eye contact. Donald’s face immediately softened, just as he was pushed into the cell next to Huey’s.

“Uncle Donald!”

“Shut up kid. Let your uncle wallow in his own guilt,” a person said, opening the boy’s door to give him some food. Huey suddenly saw red and slammed open the cell door in a fit of rage, swiftly punching the man in his stomach.

The man wheezed loudly and called for help. It suddenly dawned upon Huey he had done the wrong thing, and his freedom was going to be curbed soon.

“Huey!”

His attention was suddenly onto his uncle, and he hugged him tightly, sobbing into his shirt. “Unca’ Donald, we all missed you so much. Never go away like that again, _please_ ,” Huey mumbled, his small voice breaking every so often. 

Donald felt a lump of guilt forming in his throat. He couldn’t believe he had been so _idiotic_.

He felt tears coming to his own eyes. “It’s okay, it’s okay, quiet now,” he said, gently rubbing his nephew’s back. “You’re going to be fine.”

A sudden shout in the distance brought them back to reality. “The red kid attacked me! Get the handcuffs, quick!”

“Huey, run to the end of this corridor and turn left. Remove the loose tile near the wall and escape through the tunnel.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll slow you down. And call your uncle, mom and Daisy, okay? They can help. And tell Daisy FOWL knows the plan.”

On the contrary, Huey stubbornly clutched onto his uncle’s shirt. His uncle’s idea suddenly registered into his head.

“I won’t leave you again! And Ducks don’t back down, you said it yourself!” he cried through tears.

The footsteps grew louder. There was no time for this.

“No one is backing down, Huey. I’ll distract them. Go _now_ ,” Donald mumbled as he gave Huey a final hug and fondly ruffled his hair. “Tell everyone I love them, okay?”

“But-”

“Go!”

It wasn’t the best last line for either of them, but it was for the best, they figured. It was all a matter of life and death. Donald had taken his decision, and Huey scampered away, blankly following instructions.

At last, he stepped out of the tunnel. His tears glistened in the sun as he held the phone by his ear.

“Guys, it’s him! It’s Huey!” He heard the shuffling of feet at the other end of the line. “Huey, sweetie, where are you? What happened?”

“Uncle Donald said he loves us all.”

“... Huey?”

And with that, Huey crumbled onto the ground, choked sobs mingling with the familiar sound of the sea.

.

It took half an hour for the family to find Huey. He had evidently fallen asleep crying, and whimpered when he was gently picked up.

“U- Uncle Donald?”

He burst into tears alarmingly fast when he saw it wasn’t. Immediately being enveloped into a hug calmed him down to some degree.

“I- I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone alone. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine, even if you’re not supposed to run anywhere without us, Hubert,” Louie joked, his voice shaking as he held onto his brother. Dewey and Webby seemed content on just hugging him and never wanting to let go.

The red-clad triplet couldn’t agree less.

“Huey?” “Lad?”

“Mom! Uncle Scrooge!”

Huey ran into their embrace. He had missed everyone so much- after all, it had been weeks since he saw any of them. There had been no signal in the prison cells, and he remembered how often he thought about his family.

He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach that reminded him of the missing family member. Several shouts of his name made him realise he was still crying.

“You want to tell us anything yet? It’s okay if you don’t want to,” asked Della.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he replied. And with that, he began to narrate what happened, his face serious yet filled with emotion. He wrapped his arms around himself when he told them about Donald.

“I’m going to kill every single agent in FOWL when I see them,” Della muttered darkly, hands curled tightly into fists.

“He also asked me to contact Daisy,” Huey said, “Apparently she could help too.”

“I’ll do that,” said Della. “Scrooge and Mrs B can contact SHUSH and other people we can ask for help. You kids should take a break.”

But the kids planned to research among themselves in secret after calling Lena and Violet over. Extra help rarely harmed anyone. And once everyone agreed with the plan, they all decided to go home and take a nap.

.

Ironically, no naps were taken that day, and nor the next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I broke Huey. Also Donald and Daisy aren't really dating yet here, but they're almost there :) 
> 
> Donald is technically everyone's dad, and Gandra isn't exempted from the rule. I really hope none of the characters are ooc.
> 
> I'll try to not send the next chapter after 2 and a half months again. Thank you for being so patient!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you never have the right plans, and struggle till you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the beta readers (and my friends) @louyd and @dellyduck on tumblr!

“Dewey, Dewey wake up!” Dewey rubbed his eyes wearily. Louie wasn’t usually one to wake people up in the middle of the night, after all.

“Wh- Huh, Lou? What happened?”

Dewey blinked the sleep from his eyes and was surprised to find his little brother shaking. “I- I think Huey ran away,” Louie stammered, “and it’s all my faul-”

“Woah, hey,” Dewey sat up in bed and reached for him. “Listen to me. Breathe in for 4 seconds... hold for 7... now breathe out for 8. Again.” Dewey counted the seconds, motioning Louie to follow the count. It seemed to do the trick, eventually, and Dewey shifted a little so Louie could fit in his bunk too.

“I talked to Huey about how scared I was for him yesterday,” Louie began, hugging his knees, “I-I think he took it the wrong way. Dewey, _I_ made him run away.”

Louie sniffed, and Dewey hugged him close. “No he didn’t, Lou.”

“How would you know?”

“Look out of the window.”

Louie rolled his eyes, wiping away the tears. “I already checked the window, genius.”

“I- just- dew it again. For me?”

Louie turned towards the window half-heartedly, and nearly cried in joy when he noticed a small figure in front of the houseboat. Relief flooded through him and he hugged Dewey in his excitement.

“Should we go with him? I kinda want to go to the houseboat too.”

“ _No_.”

Louie looked at his brother, confused. _One moment he’s all happy and the next he’s all moody._

“Dew, something bothering you?”

“No, _no_ Louie. It’s just- It- maybe Huey wants to do this alone? He’s gone through a lot,” Dewey’s voice softened, and Louie saw his forced smile.

It was obvious Dewey was only telling half the truth, but Louie didn’t point it out. Nor did he point out the evident question mark in Dewey’s statement.

He nodded instead, and sent his brother a grin, masking any worry that threatened to seep through. Dewey flashed him a grin back.

“Wanna bunk in with me till he comes back?”

Louie rolled his eyes again instead, and shoved his brother aside, making space for himself instead of answering the question directly.

* * *

Huey stood in front of the houseboat. Nightmares had been bearable, at least for the past few years, and he had rarely needed to go to his uncle. Then what was different now?

_Because FOWL is dangerous. They can hurt your uncle, could be hurting your uncle, and you believe it’s your fault._

“I already knew that,” he mumbled to no-one in particular, stepping inside the houseboat.

It was a wonder this place had survived their tantrums for an entire decade. Adjusting his cap, he gently ran a hand down the dust-covered walls, noticing how the wood felt so familiar. A soft smile made its way to his face as he remembered fixing the boat with his uncle. 

A sudden pang of emptiness hit him, and the red-clad triplet felt like crying. He finally made his way to the kitchen, deciding to clean it up a bit. Several months had left the boat in dirt due to the lack of cleaning.

Wincing when he broke a ceramic cup and a piece grazed his hand, because well, it _hurt_ , he ran to the area where the first aid kit had been kept. He rummaged for the antiseptic and gauze.

Shame all of it had been used up- or packed away by his uncle, Huey thought all of a sudden. He would maybe never know, he realised, and fought back the urge to cry again.

_(“Huey I told you not to touch the cups,” Uncle Donald said in that disapproving voice of his. Huey flinched._

_“But I wanted to help you wash them, Unca Donald! And the guidebook teaches me how to do it.”_

_“But then Dewey and Louie would ask me too, and we can’t risk having all three of you in the kitchen yet, can we?” Huey grinned when his uncle ruffled his hair fondly, and set the cup on the table._

_“What about when I’m older?”_

_“I’d trust you with my life when you’re older, Huey.”)_

**_Oh right, Hubert. Your uncle is a captive of FOWL now. Shame you’re not seven years old anymore._ **

He’d failed. He couldn’t keep his uncle safe. This was his fault. Looking over to the wall, he saw the recent family photo gathering dust.

Bottled up emotions came pouring out, and he fell to his knees. Tears ran down his face as he saw blood flow from the cut on his hand.

_Your uncle taught you how to treat wounds. And now he's not here because of you, Hubert. How great is that?_

“Shut up!” he shouted, his head aching from all the internal conflict.

He would've run out of the houseboat if not for the sudden, “Huey?” from the other end of the room.

_Oh great, Mom heard you scream your head off._

“Mom, I-”

The boy was immediately pulled into a hug, and he sobbed into his mother’s shirt, latching onto her as if he’d never let go. Della rubbed his back soothingly, whispering ‘it’s not your fault’ again and again, her own voice breaking with emotion.

 _It’s mine_ , she wanted to say, but the words didn’t come out. Her son, of course, didn’t need to know she had come here because she too had missed her brother.

“It’s not your fault either, mom. It’s no-one’s,” Huey eventually said after what seemed like an eternity, as if he had read her mind. His voice was almost a whisper, and he was still shaking, but he was noticeably calmer.

Della didn’t respond, and hugged him closer still. “We’ll get your uncle back, sweetie. Whatever it takes.” Huey nodded into her shoulder.

The boy freed himself from his mother’s arms a little while later, and he glanced at her with a shy smile. “Thanks, Mom.” Della’s face, now that Huey noticed, seemed to be covered in tear tracks as well, but he decided to ignore that detail.

“Of course, Huey. Now let’s get that nasty gash on your hand treated first, okay?”

They could do this. They always did.

_Because these Ducks don’t back down._

* * *

Between the kids, it had been noticed that Dewey had reacted the least, often providing support to the rest of his family. It was a highly appreciated gesture from his end, but, well, that also involved suppressed feelings.

So when Dewey had snapped at Scrooge while the plan was being discussed at the dinner table to ‘ _get on with the plan already, old man_ ,’ it had received a mixed reaction. Some were expecting his bottled up feelings to come out like that, some had thought he had been managing better.

Dewey immediately flushed in embarrassment and wrapped his arms around himself. The rest of the family looking at him with concern certainly didn’t help.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Normally, lad, I would’ve scolded you, but I’ll treat this as an exception.”

Dewey looked up at his great-uncle in surprise.

“Do you want to talk with your mom or me later? Talking to others surprisingly helps, and if you don’t trust me you can ask Louie.”

“Yeah, Dew. It helps with the emotions, I think.”

“You think?” Dewey asked incredulously. Louie huffed at him.

(Louie wasn’t about to tell them he had a half-therapy session with Goldie too, who had been astonishingly good with hearing him out. Dewey would have to find his own ‘Aunt Goldie’.)

“But yeah no, it’s okay,” Dewey suddenly responded. He mentally shouted at himself for not taking up the offer, but the decision had been set.

Unsure glances were exchanged between the family. Huey and Webby, seated on either side of him, placed a hand each on his shoulders.

Dewey was not about to let his family think he couldn’t handle himself.

“Could you cut the drama and please go on with the plan? I’m fine.” Scrooge raised an eyebrow at him, but continued discussing the plan anyway.

Dewey scowled at himself.

Stupid emotions.

*

Three hours later, Dewey went missing.

It wasn’t unexpected, now that it happened. That didn’t mean the search wasn’t frantic on its own. Webby scoured the vents, since Huey and Louie were still searching the other areas.

A sudden _‘ow!’_ and a mutter of _‘stupid roof’_ caught her attention a few minutes later.

“Dewey?”

“Oh, hey Webby.” His voice was dull, and he sounded annoyed.

“Dewey, everyone’s looking for you, and you’re hiding in the vents?”

“Yeah, I am.” His blatant sarcasm went ignored.

Webby carefully seated herself opposite him, her head nearly touching the roof of the vent. Glancing at him, she said, “Bottling all of this up isn’t good for you, Dew. You need to talk.” And well, Dewey didn’t respond immediately, but she waited patiently, because that’s what best friends do.

She hadn’t expected the watery tone of his voice a second later. 

“I miss Uncle Donald,” the boy finally whispered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“We all do,” Webby cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. To her relief, he didn’t shrug it off.

“It’s just- I’m the open one! I’m the one who talks and laughs and expresses himself, but I can’t tell anyone I’m scared? How do I even function, Webby?” 

He raised his hands dramatically to emphasise his point, cursing under his breath when they hit the roof of the vent. Had they been in a better position, Webby would have laughed when Dewey pouted indignantly.

 _At least that’s proof he isn’t a doppelganger,_ she thought.

The boy paused there, a hesitant expression on his countenance. Webby nodded and waved her hand gently in an upward motion; it was a signal for him to continue.

Dewey nodded back quickly, as if to say, ‘ _let me do this at my own pace_.’ Webby waited. “I’m scared, Webbs,” he finally continued with unsurity, “We nearly lost Mom and Huey, Uncle Donald’s missing- who’s to say we’ll be okay?” 

Webby frowned. Dewey was always the one who jumped into danger straight away, so it was easy to forget what he was like deep down.

Luckily, she had advice from a really good friend. 

“You know what Violet would say?”

“‘Quit whining Dewford, I’m not your mom’?”

“Wh- no! She’d say, _you’re right, Dewford_.”

Dewey blinked. “Uh Webby? Not really helping here.”

“I- ugh, no- _listen_ \- we might not be okay, but we’ll get through it. Things _will_ get better, and we’ll all be back together!” Webby sent him a soft and hopeful smile. “We can _dew_ this, Dew!”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she grinned now, ruffling Dewey’s hair fondly. Dewey shot her back a grin and spread out his arms for a hug, earning a tight one from her immediately.

“Now let’s get back before someone thinks I’ve disappeared too,” joked Webby.

“They think I’ve _dewsappeared_?”

“They didn’t know _web_ you were.”

“Webby, I appreciate your effort, but you’re _so close_ to my legacy yet you’re _so far_.”

“At least I did my best.”

“You mean you _dewd_ your best.” 

Dewey grinned, and Webby shot him a look as if to say, ‘really?’, but her glare soon morphed into a smile.

Talking as they crawled out of the vents, they kept making terrible puns and jokes the entire time, and their laughter echoed throughout the Manor.

It was true, Dewey figured. Talking really did help.

\---

A few days later, the plan was put into action. It was simple, really, considering the number of details that had been omitted.

(“No hurting FOWL agents unless they harm you. Don’t make your presence obvious- No Della, we’re not avenging Donald, we’re bringing him back. And Mr. McDuck, please don’t support Della on this; the kids can end up violent enough without both of you being reckless. We’re going in and coming out,” Mrs. Beakley had said that day.)

The plan was strong on its own, and it prepared them for every eventuality. That is, every eventuality except the one they were presently faced with.

“What do you mean we’re the only ones here?” screamed Scrooge to no-one in particular, slamming his cane onto the ground. Della was mumbling incoherently herself, for she was curled up in the corner of the underground lair, tears of anger on her cheeks. 

The kids awkwardly stood nearby. Webby had wanted Lena and Violet to join them, but both of them had been strictly told not to come along by Mrs. Beakley. It wasn’t fair to drag someone else’s kids into this mess, after all.

“Huey?” began Mrs. Beakley, still weary of her surroundings, “Are you sure this was the lair and it wasn’t a hallucination?”

If looks could kill, the lady would have been six feet under.

It was pretty strange, all the same. Huey had been in this exact spot hardly 4 days afore, and yet, here it was now, devoid of any life. FOWL had to have been pretty fast to be able to escape that well.

A sudden shadow at a corner alerted them at once.

“You’re looking for Mr. Duck, right?” the shadow said, leaning against a wall.

“This is just like the assassin from that movie,” mumbled Huey nervously, clutching onto Louie’s sleeve. “This is the scene where she calls in the rest of the group and attacks us.”

“Hey, uh, you’re freaking my brother out,” Louie interrupted, glancing at Huey’s pale face. Huey’s _‘I’m giving you my collection of valuables, keep them safe Lou’_ a second later sent a wave of panic over Louie, and he sent Dewey a frightened expression over their older brother’s hat.

The shadow stepped out of the shadows at once, an annoyed expression on her face. “You were supposed to say yes.”

“What?”

“When I said _‘Mr. Duck, right?’_ you were supposed to say _‘yes’_ or something like that and then I would’ve done the speech thing and yada yada, but then the kid spoilt it and- ugh just- nevermind.” 

“Wait, you’re Gandra Dee!” shouted Webby all of a sudden, and Gandra froze.

“Gandra?” squeaked Huey, and his eyes suddenly shone with recognition, “Hi Gandra!” he waved ecstatically, and Gandra awkwardly waved back. Obviously, he didn’t know she was a FOWL agent.

“Excuse me, who?” Dewey, who was peeking at the unfamiliar lady from behind his mother, asked.

In the moment that followed, Webby summarised what was known of Gandra’s personality, and Gandra noted that it was never mentioned she was an enemy agent.

 _‘They don’t know’_ , she mused. It would make this a lot easier.

In fact, now that she observed it, the only major suspicion they had was why she had been there. She had responded she was an undercover agent who had been monitoring FOWL; it wasn’t a _complete_ lie.

(She _definitely_ did not feel a thing when the opera-singer-hat-kid mentioned Fenton, of course.)

“I know where Mr. Duck is,” she said quickly, “Rich idiots usually have private planes and stuff, right? Use yours.”

“And why are we supposed to believe you?” snapped Agent 22, being more intimidating than usual.

Gandra gritted her teeth. “See, Mrs Crumpets,” she began (Webby mumbled something along the lines of someone called ‘Lena’ getting along with her here), “I owe Mr. Duck for being a supportive guide, and you want him back home. Common goal? Both sides here don’t want him going through that nonsense? Reasons enough? Now act like normal rich people and let me use your plane.”

With a few glares from the green kid and Agent 22, they made a collective decision that Gandra could be trusted, and they got into the plane.

It was their only option, after all.

* * *

“Gandra?” Huey asked, looking every bit of the duckling he was.

“Yeah, Huey?”

“Could you show me which wires go together? The Guidebook’s missing something.” Gandra knitted her eyebrows, and then nodded.

“Of course!” Gandra scooted closer to take a look at Huey’s wires. “Oh. All you do is-- _Hey Mrs Crumpets! I said we need to follow the road below!_ Yeah so, those two go together, and maybe experiment with those a little- kid you’re a natural!”

They spent an hour fiddling with wires before Huey was called away by his mother. It had been fun though, there was no denying that.

Gandra slumped dramatically in a chair next to Louie, yawning as if this were a movie. The green triplet raised an eyebrow at her.

“Can’t you go any faster? I’m hungry,” whined Gandra, and Mrs. Beakley looked ready to strangle her.

“I thought we had a ‘common goal’ here,” the housekeeper muttered, her fingers forming air quotes at ‘common goal’.

“Well, a girl can be hungry and on a mission, right 22?”

Sensing her grandmother seething from a mile away, Webby ran into the scene, asking Gandra if she would like some chips.

“Ooh, we have a few fruits and vegetables too if you’d like something healthier!”

“Kid, I’m like, 25.”

“...So you want carrots?”

Gandra facepalmed, and Louie snickered in the corner, tossing a packet of carrots to Gandra over his shoulders. The older lady promptly snatched the chips packet from his hands and stuffed quarter a packet worth of chips into her mouth.

Webby looked at her, confused. “So you wanted both the carrots and chips?”

Gandra, with a roll of her eyes, tossed the carrots to Webby as an answer, who shrugged casually and ate the carrots one by one.

Gandra had missed being a kid. Mrs. Beakley, on the contrary, definitely did not agree. Gandra stuck out her tongue at the older lady in response.

And so the journey continued. Della was a little reckless while piloting due to her increasing anxiety, but it was manageable.

The next joint they were at, Gandra tightened her grip on the pilot’s seat. “I can see them!” she shouted, her eyes glowing an unnatural blue. 

“Wh- where?” Della stuttered at once, clutching the yoke.

“Turn left, along the highway. They’re still too far from the lair, so it should be fine. Jump down, enter the third truck, and get Agent Duck out. You might have to face SB on the way, but he’s more brawn and less brain. Don’t hurt him though.”

“Lass, how do you even know all that?” asked Scrooge, surprised, sitting in the copilot's seat. 

Gandra hardly hesitated. “Told you, I’m an agent.”

“SHUSH must really be proud of you,” Scrooge told her, the experience of an older agent in his voice. Gandra hummed in response.

“What’s your SHUSH number? I’ll tell them you deserve a rais-” 

“Oh would you look at that! We’re here! We can land there,” Gandra interrupted him hurriedly, and the attention was immediately diverted towards Della.

They exited the plane as soon as it landed, and waited behind some dense overgrowth for the trucks to approach. The trucks would stop at the crossroad, and they’d be ready to tackle them.

Huey stood near Gandra a little longer before he followed the rest of his family. “You should drop by at McDuck Enterprises again,” he said shyly as he glanced at Gandra. Gandra looked back, startled, an unreadable expression coming over her features.

“You’re really cool," he continued, looking at Louie and Dewey arguing about something, "and I'd love some help for some of the badges. Fenton’s great and all but he’s more maths and physics than physical chemistry and-" he turned around towards her, and his eyes widened. "Gandra?"

For suddenly, he realised Gandra was nowhere to be found. He paused, confused, and then ran over to his family, asking them if they had seen her. They hadn't.

_("She pulled an Aunt Goldie," Louie had said matter-of-factly. "She got a little too close, got scared, and BOOM, she's gone.")_

He didn't see the silhouette of her behind a tree. He wasn't supposed to. Dejected as he was, he didn't search either.

After all, they had more pressing matters to handle. The truck in which Donald had been kept was right in front of them, and none of them were ready to lose this opportunity. They sprinted towards it as quickly as they could, the stages of their plan unfolding one by one.

Huey immediately unbolted the door of the truck and gave the rest a thumbs up, after which Della and Mrs. Beakley helped him open it. It was a compact space, with a few Eggheads seated around Donald's unconscious form.

The few Eggheads were _very_ easy to tackle.

Scrooge was cutting open the rope around Donald when Louie’s alarmed voice rang in the air. "Guys, the truck behind us got alerted!" he said, craning his neck to check how many people were now aware of their arrival. 

Unsurprisingly, all the three trucks behind them had enough eggheads and agents to defeat them within a span of four minutes.

"Remember, the plan is to be on the defensive," Mrs. Beakley said solemnly, and with a swift movement she scooped up Donald and Della with her arms and jumped off the truck. The others followed suit, trying to escape the inevitable fight.

Their plan turned out terrible, as per the usual.

At present, they had four agents around them, each armed with more weapons than they had combined. There was a slight opening they could have escaped through, but those hopes were dashed the moment Donald woke up.

"What- _aw phooey_." 

It was a little funny, to be honest, how each and every one from the family felt that pang of familiarity when Donald spoke. Mrs. Beakley promptly dropped the twins and assumed a fighting stance.

And, well, they fought.

Dewey took bids on fighting against the _'ginormous_ fellow who hurt Launchpad'. (But eventually, Huey and Louie took charge. Because even if their brains were at the same level, Steelbeak definitely had more brawn than Dewey.)

Webby and Della took on the Phantom Blot and the absolutely bright Eggman named Pepper (in another world, Pepper might have been a part of the family, considering how well she seemed to fit into the Ducks’ dynamic), while Beakley took over the one right behind them.

Donald and Scrooge tackled the last one and an egghead. It was oddly amazing how they managed to do it in sync, a practised motion for all their countless adventures.

"Just like before, right Uncle Scrooge?" Donald said with a smile. He didn't miss the almost-hug Scrooge gave him before they knocked out the Eggman.

"Not exactly, lad," Scrooge laughed. This conversation had been exchanged in the opposite way before this, several times, so it was a little ironic for them.

Scrooge jumped onto his cane, ensuring it landed right on top of the agent, while Donald slid down to tackle the agent by the legs. Within a minute, they managed to finish the work and help the others.

It was a frantic manner in which they ran as soon as they knocked down the last one. Donald was a little unstable on his feet due to several hours of inactivity, but he managed to stumble into the plane just in time.

"Hey SB! They're getting away!" shouted one agent to the rooster. 

"I _said_ it's _Steelbeak-_ " 

" _Imbeciles_ , all of you!" bellowed the voice of none other than Bradford Buzzard, and the agents cowered under his glare.

Huey didn't hear much of the conversation. But he saw a vaguely familiar shadow enter the last truck and sidle up beside the agents. And he saw Steelbeak ruffle the shadow's hair. But done with enough action for a day, he decided to ignore it.

After all, when he turned around to enter the plane’s interior, he found his uncle and his brother already asleep on a chair, with Louie curled up beside Donald and clutching onto his sleeve. And as much as Huey wished to talk to Donald, they all needed some rest. He'd 'attack their uncle with some love' later, as his brothers put it.

"Hi Huey!"

"Oh, hi Webby!" Huey greeted Webby with a wave, and Webby plopped herself in the seat beside him.

They sat for a while in silence before Webby spoke, her voice laden with drowsiness. "We didn't finish the job."

"Huh?" _But we got Unca Donald back, right?_

"Granny says we should've used their information and expanded on it. FOWL can still attack us, and there's something bigger on the horizon."

"Webby-"

"It was too easy, according to Granny," she said, as if they just hadn't tackled several agents and done the equivalent of a highway robbery. "She says we're missing something."

"We're missing some- oh _no._ " Realisation dawned upon Huey, and he put his head in his hands.

Webby placed a hand on his shoulder in worry. "Huey? Is everything okay?"

"Not for long."

Donald had been a pawn in a bigger game. Maybe they changed their intention midway, but FOWL was always on the right track.

Uncle Donald was initially supposed to be an agent, without doubt, but when Donald figured out FOWL's aim, they used him as bait. They had exposed their weaknesses, one by one, because they _knew_ the family would come for him.

FOWL knew where to hit them where it hurt. And Gandra, the shadowy figure, was one of them, and she knew more than the rest FOWL did combined.

It had all been a ploy. A trap.

 _'I'm an agent,'_ she had said, _'Common goal?'_ she had said, and well, she hadn't been _wrong_. He had just forgotten to ask her which side she was working on.

Oh, they were in _big_ trouble.

* * *

Gandra Dee wasn't stupid. FOWL had asked her to ensure Donald escaped along with the family safely, and she'd done her part.

But she was selfish. And if she wanted to hide some details about the family, and wanted to toggle between her priorities, she'd do it. Because being smart and selfish was possible.

Besides, Donald had been more of a paternal figure during his tenure at the agency than anyone else had been, and she had enjoyed teaching Huey a little more about circuits. 

Gandra Dee never failed to pay back her debts before, even if it meant running on the thin, dangerous line between two sides.

She could do this. Even if the Duck family never trusted her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few things to say about this chapter:  
> 1) I'm showing favouritism for Gandra here. Honestly, whether her arc binds with Fenton's or not, she has so much potential on her own and can be so powerful and in this essay I will-  
> 2) This is where the main plot ends. The next chapter will be heartfelt reunions and fluff (and the twins' reconciliation, of course).  
> Thank you to those reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta so there may be errors. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> (If you want to talk with me you can contact me on my tumblr: @your-local-semi-nerd :))


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